Someone Like You
by FuckMePumps
Summary: [Is it real, or a just a fake?] The little peasant Earth girl went on to poke his scar, repeatedly, of all things! Zuko could never stand poking of any sort. And they ask why he was such a hothead, like it wasn't obvious... Zukocentric, oneshot.


**_Should have been just a five hundred words, max. lighthearted and crack drabble. Grew into something more. Takes place in the timeline of Zuko Alone (not that I would actually know, as I've never watched a single episode of season two). Yes, I do know the risks, and I'm willing to take them._**

_**I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender.**_

**-**

"**Life is an ugly, awful place not to have a best friend."**

_-Sarah Dessen, Someone Like You_

**-**

"What will you be having, sir?"

Zuko looked up abruptly at the waitress who had just appeared at his table. She had a round face and twinkling eyes, and even with the droplets of sweat dripping from her light brown hair she looked pretty. The restaurant was full that day, so it took a while for him to get service. In the meantime, he had gotten distant in his thoughts.

He glanced at the menu list posted on one of the walls; he had been so preoccupied with his contemplations he hadn't even decided what to order yet.

"Uh…" He jingled in the few coins left in his pocket. A meager amount; he couldn't spare too much. "A small unleavened cake and some water only."

She seemed dubious, pitying, even. "Are you sure? We have other choices…"

He waved his hand dismissively, though the upset expression on her face disturbed him a bit. She was only trying to be accommodating, as restaurant personnel should be.

"Yes, I'm certain." Then, just for the record, "Thank you for asking."

Her frown broadened into a grin. "I-I'll be right back, sir." And she bustled away into the crowd.

Zuko put his head in his hands. The stuttering gave it away; sometimes he seriously didn't know what made some girls trip over themselves for him. He wasn't charming, nor gentlemanly, and feeling the rough skin beneath his fingers he concluded he definitely wasn't even _handsome_…

He shook his head in resignation. Why was he even thinking about this? It had only been a few hours since he separated from his uncle, and he had barely been able to keep himself together. It was strange, because in times like these, when he was in the middle of a multitude but still feeling alone, that he often drifted into trances of some sort…

He'd remember his mother, and her mysterious disappearance that nearly tore him apart. His father, who'd never truly been proud of him. His sister, who was a sadistic, power-hungry, dictator-in-the-making, who somehow just had to be gifted with genius firebending skills. His uncle, who'd always been there for him through thick and thin, the father he never had.

Even though it hurt him, he also reminded himself of the day it all began, and where it lead him now. On a fruitless goose chase after some flying monkey kid (he'd had enough of prodigies) to restore his done-for honor, title, and throne. Sometimes he didn't know why he didn't just give up, it all seemed so _hopeless_ sometimes…

Then, he was startled from his reverie once again by the waitress.

"Um, here's your food." She awkwardly pushed a tray on his table. There was indeed the cake he asked for, only it was layered and seasoned the way they are in the Earth Kingdom, with a few pieces of fresh fruit on the side. The water was replaced by a tall glass of wine, and though the delicious smell of the food wafted to his nostrils and made his stomach protest in hunger (come on, it's only a little indulgence), he refused.

"B-but, this isn't what I asked for… at all," now he knew what it felt like to stammer uncontrollably.

She only smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair shyly behind her ear. "No, it's on the house. I assume you've gone a long way, and you seem to be very tired. No one will notice, and you have to eat…"

He shoved some coins in her directions. "But… at least let me pay you…" He wouldn't admit it, but his heart was warming up to the kindness (it wasn't often people showed him that).

"Oh, no, it's okay, I think you'll be needing it for other necessities later on…"

"Isn't there _any_ way I can repay you? Any way at all?"

She bit her lip, hesitant. "Well, there is one thing… but I think the trouble isn't worth it…"

"I don't mind." Was this really him, or someone borrowing his body for today?

She brought out a small child from seemingly out of nowhere. The girl shouldn't be older than seven at the most, and had her dark hair in two messy pigtails, with big eyes and a front-toothless beam, dressed in leaf-green garments that covered her neck, reached the ends of her arms and went below her legs. Even as one from the Fire Nation, he thought it to be a particularly hot day to be wearing such clothing, but who was he to judge the peasants?

"This is Pippa, and she's been here since noon. She's been traveling with her parents and she stopped by with her parents earlier, but in the chaos got, well, she got lost. We're positive they'll come back for her later, but in the meantime we've been having a very hard time keeping her. She's very… rambunctious, but since you have an empty seat and everyone else's tables are full, I thought that…"

"I'll take care of her." He finished, not even thinking.

"You… you will? Oh, thank you!" She replied gratefully.

"No, _I _thank _you_." He didn't know why, but she started blushing and fumbling around with the straps of her apron.

"I--I better go now. Thank you again." And she disappeared into the horde.

His stare trailed to Pippa, who was still grinning endlessly at him. It was starting to get creepy…

"Hi. I'm Pippa. What's your name?" She said in a voice that was high and chirpy, like a bird's.

He was going to opt for no answer, but figured that would only show the way to more pointlessness. "I'm… Basta." He lied.

"Oh." She cocked her head sideways, eyeing him. "So, Basta, that scar is…"

"I'd rather not talk about it." Still calm, he was.

"Hmm, okay. So… what're you doing here?"

He glanced from his meal, which was halfway finished, to the girl. "I'm eating, and you're disturbing me."

"Sheesh, you're such a hothead. I was just asking." She put a finger on her lip in thought. "That scar's really…"

"Not the scar. Don't mention the scar." No, no, he's not annoyed. Just… mildly at that.

"Fine, fine." She drummed her chubby fingers on the surface of the table. "What're you eating?"

He sighed in exasperation. What had he just gotten himself into? "Cake, and fruit."

"Is it good?"

"It wouldn't really matter since I've been starving for days, but yes, I rather think it's good."

"Oh. Why were you starving?"

"'Cause I haven't been eating."

"Why?"

"Because I had no food."

"Why?"

"Just because!" He's not _too_ pissed, you know… Uh-oh, now her lower lip was quivering; did he just make her cry? As if he could sink any lower…

But she only turned away, crossing her arms with a pout. "You're _sooo_ touchy, you know."

He sighed, in defeat this time. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just in a bad mood." Why the heck was he being so _nice_? What was wrong with the world?

She faced him again, then stretched over to pat his hand (much larger, and much more calloused than hers). "Aw, that's alright Basta, we all get those sometimes."

He managed a smirk. He had never really paid attention to the benevolence of the Earth peasants before…

"Don't you feel warm?" he asked suddenly, curious. "I mean, with those clothes, don't you get hot and sweaty and…"

"I don't sweat." She said curtly, and he figured that must have been a mistake. So much for his conversational skills…

"So, about that scar…"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, yes, what about it?" Might as well get it over with…

"Is it real?"

He'd been drinking the wine then, and almost sputtered it out. "WHAT?" He'd been expecting a 'Where'd you get it?' or 'Did it hurt?' or the most dreaded one of all, 'It's like I've seen it before,' but not a question on its _authenticity_.

"I asked if your scar was real. Are you deaf now, too?"

"Of course it's real!" He retorted indignantly, forgetting that he was arguing with a kid younger than two times his junior. "Does this look _fake_ to you?"

"I don't know, it seems kinda wishy-washy…"

She squinted, standing on her stool to lean over and _pok_e it, repeatedly, of all things. "Yup, it even _feels_ rubbery. How'd you make it?"

"I didn't make it!" He snorted, though it was barely heard in the noise. "I got it in an Agni Ka--… I meant a battle, yeah, with a firebender."

"A battle, huh? Suppose that makes you honorable or something, except if you were stealing their food or supplies and whatnot…"

Shame crept to his neck in red tendrils. "Of course not, silly girl. I was… protecting my sister." The bluff slipped easily, though the actual truth was _far_ from it.

She wrinkled her button nose. "I guess they'd been trying to… do stuff to her or something, and that's why you had to rescue her." So believable, like she knew what she was talking about…

"Y-yeah, that's it…"

An awkward quietness between the boy with an identity undoubtedly falser than his scar and the little girl who didn't seem so little when she talked.

"The… firebenders are big meanies, aren't they?" Her tiny voice quivered for an instant, then regained the chipper pitch.

He averted his gaze, still incredulous he was feeling so ashamed with only an insignificant peasant girl who had him in her sights. But there was _knowing_ in her eyes, a weird kind of understanding that made him uncomfortable…

"Yes… I suppose so…"

"Well, I know…" She used a tone that adults used for toddlers that had no sense of comprehension about why the turtleducklings had to follow their mother around _always_, and not just try to find their own way (they don't know any better, only their parents do). "See?" With a smile so startlingly out-of-place in her voice.

When he looked at her again, the fork clattered from his fingers. She'd shed her thick, covering robes and wore a light sundress with floral patterns, like little girls were supposed to, but that wasn't what stunned him. The flesh from her neck and below, which was supposed to be porcelain smooth and soft, like a _normal _child's, was marked with blemishes in varying shades of red, scars that had never truly healed… Then it struck; _burn _scars, from firebenders. Around them the world was busy, active, raucous, but they seemed to be enclosed in a sphere of sheer silence.

What kind of cruel, malicious, heartless bastards would do that to such a young, guiltless…?

"The firebenders." Only then did he realize he'd been saying it all aloud. "They're… evil."

He peered down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Hands, where veins flowed with heated blood (liquid flames); hands, that struck and pierced and _scorched_, causing scars like the one on his face right now, on countless other innocent others. Was that what his people were; monsters, fiends, dragons that didn't deserve to live in daylight?

"It's okay, Basta. It's okay." She reassured for the umpteenth time. "I bet you're remembering how they burnt you too. And I bet they don't even think about how much it _hurts_. Did yours hurt when you got it? 'Cause mine did, _a lot_. I couldn't even move, and I cried at night and granma's balms didn't make them better…"

"Why…" His words hitched in his throat as he looked deep into those wide eyes. So _young. _"…do you think they did it, to you?"

She pondered for a while. "They wanted to find out something from Baba… they stormed into the house, but he wouldn't tell them nothing. Nothing. Baba was strong. Then they took me and tied me up to the two trees in the back yard, the ones that stood only a meter apart. Then they had these crazy flares in their hands and… and… I screamed, and Mama was begging them to stop, and Baba told them. They stopped, but they torched our house, and my parents couldn't get more money to buy a new one, and we've been traveling ever since." So matter-of-fact; how could she manage it?

"So… aren't you gonna ask me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Ask what?"

"If they're fake." She pointed to her marred body. "People always ask that, and sometimes I say yes, but sometimes, when I feel like it and I don't like someone, I say it's just clever painting, like my Mama used to do. That's why I asked you; I wanted to know if you liked me enough to tell the truth."

"I told the truth, didn't I?" He grinned crookedly, though he hadn't fully wrapped his mind around her terrible history.

"Say, have you got a little sister?" Pleading eyes, like a puppy's.

His brow furrowed. After not much deliberation, "No, no I don't."

She beamed happily, and he felt the corners of his mouth twitching into one too. "Then can you be my big brother, Basta? I always wanted one, but it doesn't work that way. And I can be you little sister! We'll be like… scar siblings!" She held out a hand the size of a doll's, smiling expectantly.

Scar Sibling… no matter how unusual and kind of wrong it sounded. Of course, they weren't exactly the most typical and _right_ people he knew, so it was fine. It was good. He shook her hand gently.

"It's a deal, Pippa, my scar sister." He downed a gulp of wine, and she wanted to do it too, sort of like a toast to seal the pact.

Later, the waitress returned, with two hassled-looking persons behind her.

"Pippa, your parents have come back!" She announced, and Pippa yelped joyfully and jumped up from her seat to throw her arms around her parents, who now looked relieved.

"Thank you so much for taking care of her," the woman said.

The girl motioned to Zuko. "Oh, please, not me. Thank…?" Her brow crinkled in inquiry.

"Basta." He supplied.

"…Basta. He was the one who really looked after her."

The man, the father, presumably, gave him a once-over, before his bearded face broke out into gratefulness. "Well, Basta, thank you so much. I hope she didn't give you too much trouble."

"She was alright." He said stoically.

"Then," the mother began. We better get going. Pippa, put on your cloaks. Thank you again, Basta."

Before they had a chance to vanish, Zuko held out a fist in front of Pippa. She titled her head, then understood.

"G'bye, Basta: Scar Big Brother," she knocked his knuckles with hers.

"'Bye."

With a final front-toothless smile, Pippa was gone.

The waitress then turned to him tentatively. "How are you doing?"

He smiled at her, making the sparkles in her eyes flutter. "Great."

"Oh." She saw his now-empty plate. "How was your meal?"

"Satisfying. Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome. I'm Lena." She held out a hand for him to shake, but instead he threw his arms around her waist and shoulders and stayed there for a moment, catching a whiff of something sweet.

When he drew back, she was blushing furiously, breathing erratically.

"Thank you again, Lena. For more than you can ever imagine." He picked up his makeshift bag and threw it over his shoulders, preparing to leave.

As she took a wet rag to clean up the table, she caught his sleeve as he passed by. "Wait."

He paused.

"Would you… would you come back here again, sometime? I'll give you extra slices of peaches." If she wasn't so nervous, she would have winked.

"Maybe. That would be… nice." He said carefully, and she let go.

"A farewell," she said as she waved. "Not a goodbye, then?"

"Yes." As he delved deeper into the crowd. "A farewell."

As he stepped out into the last fading, sinking rays of the sun, a new resolution cleared itself up in his mind.

This was destiny.

He finally knew that he had to do.

_fin_

-

**_I hope Zuko wasn't hideously OoC. I was so scared of it happening, but it was the best I could do. Before you leave, please leave me some writer's brainfood in the form of a _**

_**REVIEW!**_

**_Btw, as a side note, 'basta' in Filipino means something along the lines of 'just because.' There's no accurate translation, in case you were wondering._**


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